


Losing The Bet

by Rocketman23



Series: Cuphead Prompts [2]
Category: Cuphead (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Gen, poem, rebuilding the casino
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2019-03-04 22:56:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13374828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rocketman23/pseuds/Rocketman23
Summary: after losing the casino to the devil fires and being left in the crumbling ruins, King Dice resolves to rebuild his home.





	Losing The Bet

It was difficult,   
Losing everything in that short amount of time  
Everything he had built himself up on  
All the bets he won  
All the backstabbing that had to be done  
The reputation he had garnered himself  
All lost in one afternoon,

It was difficult,  
Admitting to himself what had happened   
And how he had let it happen   
Anyone would be sore from such a blow  
But he was the king!

He was savvy and debonair incarnate,  
Calm and collected,  
Regal and royal,  
And yet, despite those aspects  
He got his cards played

True the brothers very lives were on the line   
And yes,   
They had set all those debtors free   
And he knew they had every right to fight  
But to set his casino into chaos?  
He was a man of sin, truly,  
But his he felt, he did not deserve

The devil had long left,  
Tail tucked between his legs  
As he slunk back to his domain  
And in his wake  
Left fires ablaze and demons afoot   
And the kings world,  
So hard worked upon,  
To tatters and dust

It was difficult,   
To walk the ruined red floor  
And see the destruction,  
To see tables smashed   
And glass scattered everywhere,  
To see the stage that he so loved to stand on and sing   
Splinted and broken,  
The once marvellous and glittering chandelier that hung from the ceiling   
Had fallen and crashed to the ground   
Shards of its fine glass sticking jagged in the ground

It was difficult,   
To look upon his home  
His life  
And not shake,   
To not fall to his knees,  
Careless of the glass that poked and through his tattered suit pants,  
And cry

Soft weeps at first  
Small tears that trickled down his face  
Then heaving sobs that shook his body  
Leaving him hunched over  
Fat tears sweeping down his face like a river,  
Its current seemingly endless

But then night had come again,   
He the only soul in that place still  
And the tears had stopped,  
And so he sat silently staring ahead  
Out at the clear sky filled with twinkling stars

He looks about his home and he frowns   
A ghost of what had originally been there  
And he looks and he thinks   
“I am a king”  
“And this is not how this should be”  
So he rises

And with difficulty,   
He picks up a brick and places it amongst others,   
And slowly a wall forms  
He sweeps away glass,   
And slowly the floor comes back to its vibrancy  
He makes a small place for himself, all torn cushions and curtain,  
And slowly he makes a suitable place to sleep   
And so slowly  
So painfully slow,  
He rebuilds his home  
And himself.


End file.
